


We are never ever getting back together

by maniac_pixie_dreamgirl



Series: Red [7]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:38:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl/pseuds/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why?”</p><p>And they all now that the real question is has seventeen more words. It’s unspoken but it hangs between them.</p><p>  <em> Why are you going on a date with him, when you are clearly in love with someone else? </em></p><p>Grantaire sighs and takes a sip of his coffee, it tastes bitter and sweet at the same time and he likes that.</p><p>“Because I’m tired,” he answers, “Aren’t you?”</p><p>“Me? What do I have…”<br/>“Oh you don’t have to pretend, she isn’t here today,” Grantaire cuts in waving his hands impatiently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are never ever getting back together

Mondays usually smell like cinnamon and coffee with a hint of caramel for Grantaire. He likes that- working at Musain, making lattes for strangers with unibrows and ugly sweaters, drawing funny cartoons with charcoal on the blackboard, feeling useful. He likes it even more when his friends drop by for a quick coffee sprinkled with some gossip. Today it’s Jehan and Combeferre and Grantaire is surprised- future doctor rarely has time for anything other than memorizing the six hundreds pages filled with sophisticated bone names. But the semester is over even for medical students, so maybe he decided to take some time off.

They sit next to the counter as usual and Grantaire takes their order- it’s always the same one- jasmine tea with honey for Jehan and a black espresso for Combeferre.

“What’s up?” asks Grantaire wiping his hands on the apron.

“Enjolras thinks he’s better now and insists on having the meeting today,” answers Combeferre. He shakes his head with irritation and adjusts his red tie.

“I tried to talk him out of it, but he threw a box of tissues at me.”

Grantaire chuckles, but suddenly there’s a shiver of panic running down his spine.

_Shit, shit, shit._

“Today?!” he asks his eyes wide.

“Yeah, today it’s Monday. Meetings are always on Monday that’s why they’re called Monday meetings.”

Grantaire looks like a rabbit caught in headlights and Jehan frowns.

“What’s wrong R?”

Grantaire turns around, making one coffee for himself. It’s just an excuse, letting him buy some time. He’s not sure he wants to answer that question. He is not sure they will understand.

But when he comes back with a hot mug in his hand they are still watching him expectantly.

Grantaire takes a deep breath and nearly chokes on his tongue.

“I have a date today,” he spits out the words like they are made out of fire.

Combeferre cocks an eyebrow and Jehan’s jaw hits the floor. They both know that Grantaire doesn’t date- he fucks, but doesn’t date.

“With whom?” asks Jehan bluntly and his eyes are big as planets now.

“With Gallery Guy.”

Those words make bigger impact than Grantaire would have wished- if his friends were surprised before they are clearly shocked now.

Jehan is staring at Grantaire like he has just informed them that he’s a unicorn. Combeferre just squints his eyes and adjusts his glasses. He is analyzing the whole situation and after a while he forms one basic, essential question.

“Why?”

And they all now that the real question is has seventeen more words. It’s unspoken but it hangs between them.

_Why are you going on a date with him, when you are clearly in love with someone else?_

Grantaire sighs and takes a sip of his coffee, it tastes bitter and sweet at the same time and he likes that.

“Because I’m tired,” he answers, “Aren’t you?”

“Me? What do I have…”

“Oh you don’t have to pretend, she isn’t here today,” Grantaire cuts in waving his hands impatiently.

The almost invisible blush on Combeferre’s cheeks tells him how right he is.

“How did you guess?”

“Takes one to know one. I’ve recognized the look- I’ve seen it in the mirror too many times.”

Combeferre hangs his head and follows the pattern on his mug with his finger. It’s kind of liberating to be able to talk about his feelings. Especially with someone who understands him. The mood must be contagious because Jehan shifts on his chair and clears his throat.

“I’m in love with Courfeyrac. We had sex and it was amazing, but he wants us to just be friends,” he blurts out and his face is covered with a red blush in a size of Canada.

Grantaire bursts out in laughter. He laughs so much tears are gathering in his eyes.

“Look at us, three grown man with the problems straight from some chick-flick.”

“Or some high schooler’s diary.”

They all laugh for a while, nearly spilling their drinks. When they stop the conversation is nearly over.

There’s not much more to add. And although they sound similar their feelings are completely different. They are like the elements.

Grantaire’s feelings for Enjolras are like fire- desperate, passionate and all consuming. Instead of building they destroy. Unbridled and wild, they started unexpectedly, taking over his life, blazing brightly. They burn painfully and will continue to do so until there’s nothing left.

Combeferre’s feelings for Eponine are like water- first there was only one drop, one small, meaningless drop, but after one drop came the other and the next one. And before he could do anything about it, maybe before he even realized it’s raining, the droplets created a waterfall that flooded him completely. He is drowned in this feeling and there is no hope for him now.

And Jehan’s feelings for Courfeyrac are like air- invisible but omnipresent. Loving Courfeyrac is like breathing so natural that almost unnoticeable, but at the same time essential and inevitable. And recently those feelings stopped being a summer breeze and became a hurricane- out of control and terrifying. So terrifying that Jehan wants to hide.

Jehan finishes his tea and Grantaire takes the cup from him, putting it in the dishwasher.

“What do you intend to do?” asks Combeferre when he comes back.

“I have no idea. Probably cancel the date,” Grantaire shrugs.

“Don’t do that.”

“Should I skip the meeting then?”

“No. Bring him with you. It will be a wake-up call,” Combeferre coffee is gone as well and they are ready to go.

“For who?” asks Grantaire. For him Combeferre is like Yoda sometimes, always talking in riddles.

“That’s what are going to find out”

And just like that they’re gone, leaving Grantaire alone with his thoughts.

❈❈❈

Enjolras shakes his head, he has no idea why Combeferre and Jehan were against having the meeting today. He is fine. Well the Niagara Falls are still trying to come of his nose every time he exhales and the world starts to spin uncontrollably when he stands still for longer than a minute, but other than that he is _fine._  
More importantly the meeting is going smoothly, the main problems got solved and Feuilly just told them that he had managed to collect quite a lot of donations for their cause.  
Everything seems perfect. Everything besides one thing- Grantaire isn’t there. And it shouldn’t be a problem- actually it should be a polar opposite of a problem. Enjolras knows he should be glad that no one is interrupting him, making stupid comments with a smug face, spreading the sharp smell of whisky. He is well aware of the fact he should be relieved, yet for some reason he isn’t. He catches himself looking at the empty spot, where Grantaire usually sits, pausing in the places where he should be interrupted, shooting daring glances at thin air. For some stupid reason instead of feeling relieved he is disappointed.  
In the beginning he thought that Grantaire is running late as usual, but it’s been half an hour now and there’s still no sign of him. Enjolras even send him a quick text while making tea, but he didn’t get any reply.

_What the hell stopped Grantaire from coming to the meeting?_

Enjolras gets the answer to his question quicker than he expected. Just a few minutes later Grantaire walks into the flat with a brightest smile on his face. And he isn’t alone.  
 _God he isn’t alone. He brought someone with him._  
Enjolras narrows his eyes, he knows he has seen this face before he is just not sure where. And then it hits him- it’s the Grand Git Gallery Guy. Every muscle in Enjolras’ body tenses, and there’s a weird shiver running down his spine like the one you get when you touch the candle flame only worse. He wants to throw him out, throw them all out. And maybe smash the apartment a little bit. There’s no reason for Enjolras to feel that way, there’s no logical explanation, at least he can’t find one, but that’s what he wants to do. However he is sane enough not to do that- he just shoots them a look that usually makes other people cry.  
Grantaire just shrugs and mouths a quick apology. He doesn’t look sorry though and it makes Enjolras even angrier.  
He can’t remember when or if Grantaire smiled so brightly at him.

Enjolras tries to get back on track with his speech, but he just can’t. His eyes keep wandering to the couple at the back and when he notices Gallery Guy planting a few quick kisses at the corner of Grantaire’s mouth he just snaps.

“This isn’t a kissing-booth! We are having a serious meeting here, so if you want to make out than go to a hotel or something!!!”

Grantaire’s eyes widen and he freezes. Gallery Guy looks offended and embarrassed at the same time. His face is in the shade of aubergine. He looks torn like he doesn’t know whether to beg for mercy or to make a scene. Finally he decides on the later. He grabs Grantaire by his arms and pulls him into the most obscene french kiss Enjolras has ever seen.  
Enjolras feels the mighty need of relocating this asshole’s nose, cheeks and other bones. Surely he would function fine without few of his internal organs as well, wouldn’t he?

While Enjolras’ insides are boiling Grantaire manages to peel himself off his date.

“Let’s go Grant,” says the man standing up.

“Don’t call him that, he hates it,” says Enjolras through gritted teeth. He is well aware that everyone is watching them, turning their heads like it’s a tennis game.

“He likes when I call him that,” this guy isn’t intimidated by Enjolras. Not even a one bit.

Enjolras cracks his knuckles, one more minute and he will push his fist through this asshole’s brain.

“Let’s go Grant.”

Grantaire is clearly uncomfortable; the biggest smile in the world is long gone replaced by dark frown. He doesn’t move for a moment, avoiding any eye contact and for a second Enjolras is sure he is going to leave. The sole thought of that makes him nauseous. But then Grantaire nods his head like he has made a decision. He looks at the aubergine faced guy and smiles weakly.

“Sorry mate, but I think I’m going to stay,” the words are quick and not very apologetic.

“You’re joking right?!”

Grantaire shakes his head.

“I don’t particularly like being treated like a tool and shoving your tongue down my throat just to enrage Enjolras made me feel that way.”

The color of the face turns from aubergine to almost blue. Grantaire stands up from the chair and holds the front door open.

Angry Gallery Guy bursts through them swearing in almost every language known to man.

“And I hate being called Grant!” screams Grantaire before shutting the door.

Enjolras has to physically stop himself from shooting his fist in the air.

“Well I have a feeling that, as Feuilly’s idol would say- we are never ever ever getting back together,” says Grantaire with a smile and everyone including Enjolras laughs.

But the good atmosphere doesn’t last for long, Enjolras quickly remembers that Gallery Guy wasn’t the one he was angry at.

“What the hell were you thinking bringing him here?”

Grantaire mouth hardens. He doesn’t answer.

“You weren’t thinking! You never think Grantaire! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“With me?! What the fuck is wrong with you! You never had a problem when Courf brought one of his dates with him! Or when Bossuet brought his new girlfriend - that’s how you’ve met Musichetta!”

The others shake their heads- they know the pattern to well, the fight is coming and it’s going to be a big one.

“That was a long time ago. Times have changed! Lamarque is dead! This isn’t a game anymore Grantaire!”

“I know it’s not!”

“Do you? Because I think you don’t. Everything is a game for you! As long as there’s alcohol you’re happy. You are never serious about anything! That’s why you won’t achieve anything in your life.”

Grantaire looks like he just got slapped.

“We have a chance to change the world. Now it’s the perfect time. There’s no time for childish antics, we are not kids anymore!”

His voice is so loud he’s sure the whole London can hear him, but he’s so angry he doesn’t care.

They look at each other with fury in their eyes.

“Stop fighting!” begs Jehan.

“No, no fight some more! But Grantaire, don’t punch Enjolras until I find my phone, I want to film that,” Bahorel is clearly enjoying the havoc.

Cosette stands up and puts her teacup down, the worry painted all over her angelic face.

“Enjolras calm down- Grantaire didn’t mean to disturb the meeting. He simply brought the guy he liked with him. He wanted to spend time with someone he cares about. There is nothing wrong with that”

Sweet, innocent Cosette, she is still new at this. No one explained to her how complicated everything is between them. Of course she would see it that way, everyone else would. But she will learn soon enough that things between Les Amis are usually far more complicated that they seem.

Grantaire laughs bitterly.

“Don’t bother Cosette, he won’t understand what you’re talking about. He has no idea what caring about someone means. He is physically incapable of love.”

Enjolras feels like he has just been punched in the gut, he gasps for air, but still feels like he’s suffocating. Usually, always even, he wins the fights, he has the last, often very cruel word. But tonight Grantaire has beaten him to it. What he said killed in something in Enjolras. He is done for today, done with all of this shit. He doesn’t want to fight anymore- his head is spinning, his body is burning up with fever again and there is a newfound tightness in his chest.

“The meeting is over,” Enjolras simply says, before retreating to his room and locking the doors.

Through the walls he can hear muffled voices but he blocks them with a pillow.

He is not angry, not anymore, right now he is just hurt.

❈❈❈

An hour later, when everyone else is gone and Enjolras just sits on his bed scratching Brandy behind her ear a note is slipped through the crack under the door. He stands up and unfolds it. Recognizing Combeferre’s handwriting comes with no trouble to him- he spent half of his life trying to decipher those sharp, slender, completely illegible letters of a future doctor.

He reads the note.

_Maybe you should think about why you got so angry that Grantaire came here with someone else._

_C._

The last two words are underlined.

Enjolras frowns, sometimes Combeferre’s notes are as difficult to understand as they are to read.

He picks the cat up from the floor and sits on the windowsill. The evening has turned into night.

Combeferre is probably right- he needs to think about the reasons for his outburst, especially since it was a little bit too much even for him. But right now with the reverberation of a fight still stirring his blood, he just can’t.

_Why can’t things be simple for once?_

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next part.  
> Sorry it took so long. Sorry for my mistakes. Sorry it's a bit shorter than usually.  
> My exams are coming up and it's reflecting on the quality of my fic, so I am apologizing in advance...  
> LOVE YOU ALL!!!!


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